A Waterfall A waterfall is a singular thing, an overflowing dam especially. Are there words enough to bring your riffles and splashes, your slurping and dashes onto the page? I think not. The wallowing murmurs, amidst chuckling churners, the gentle susurrations, the gurgling gargling, trickles and ripples, sprinkles that tickle. Over there some tishing and toshing and right here is splishing and sploshing. All that glistening glitter rippling under a tossing light, crashing and bashing about, will never adequately render the splendor that is you. No matter how far I cheat in the bending of words, even with all that onomatopoeiaing, regardless what I may try, this page remains dry.
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I've just had an onomatopoeiac tsunami sweep me away :) Nice one Wes!
Quite entertaining! Even looking up the meaning of “onomatopoeiaing” was fascinating, and to use it in a poem is brilliant. Thanks, Weston!